


Zeal and Other Lies

by PenguinofProse



Series: Season 7 speculation [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Disciple Bellamy, F/M, Ill-timed confessions, Inside man Bellamy, S7 speculation, Where is Bellamy Blake?, ill-timed proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: S7 speculation. What has Bellamy been up to during the first half of the season? Playing the inside man, of course. Featuring Disciple!Bellamy and an ill-timed marriage proposal.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Season 7 speculation [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783594
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97





	Zeal and Other Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to a spot of speculation about what Bellamy might have been up to since 7.01. Happy reading!

Another day, another unforeseen disaster. Bellamy knows the drill by now. It's been like this, trouble coming thick and fast, since the moment he stowed away on the dropship all those years ago.

All things considered, this is a new genre of disaster, he decides, as he finds himself being beaten to a pulp by enemies he cannot even see.

Then one of them gets lucky with a blow to his head, and the world turns black.

…...

He comes round in a room which is too white.

It makes him think of Mount Weather – more specifically, of the stories Clarke would occasionally tell him, late at night when they were waiting for the world to end, of the horrifying moment she woke up in Mount Weather and realised she was in trouble.

That's how he feels now.

He seems to be strapped to a chair, which is a concern. Who is he kidding? It's a _disaster_. He has no hope of fighting his way clear of this if he cannot move his limbs or even his head. And then there's a big spike hovering over him, which makes him feel nervous to say the least.

A man dressed all in white enters his field of vision. Is he dressed for camouflage against the walls?

He stops wondering such frivolous things when the stranger starts to speak. "Mr Blake. We have been wanting to meet you for some time."

Bellamy doesn't reply, because he doesn't much fancy being polite to this guy he is already taking a strong dislike to.

"Mr Blake, you may call me Anders. Please allow me to welcome you to Bardo. My colleague here, Mr Peters, will be taking a tour of your memories. Your co-operation would be much appreciated. As long as you co-operate, the procedure is perfectly harmless."

"Why would I want to co-operate with you?" He asks, fishing for information on what leverage they think they have.

Anders nods calmly, as if having expected this question. "There can be substantial brain damage if you struggle. That would be a shame – we don't mean you any harm. You may also wish to know that we have your sister in our custody and are sending a team for Clarke Griffin at this very moment."

That surprises him into speech. "Clarke?"

"Clarke is the key to everything. Your sister was kind enough to show us that. You must understand, Mr Blake – you are here because your sister showed us that you are close to Clarke. We hope you will co-operate and tell us everything you know about Clarke."

Bellamy thinks the situation through quickly, and as logically as he is capable of, given the rather frightening circumstances. Clarke would be proud of him – he wastes a precious fraction of a second on thinking that. These people have his sister, and they are already making a confident attempt to capture Clarke. He knows she won't come without a fight, but he suspects that she won't struggle very much once she hears that these people essentially have him and Octavia as hostages for her co-operation. That means that the folks here – _Bardo_ , wasn't it? - will have custody of the two women he loves the most, before long.

When he looks at it that way, there is only one option open to him. He needs to do what he does best – he needs to play the inside man, sit tight, and do what he can to sabotage these people's plans from within. That's what he does, after all. Or, at least, it's what he has done before now with a good degree of success.

He needs, therefore, to co-operate as Anders has asked him to so many times already. But to co-operate too easily would look suspicious, he figures – he needs to put up a convincing token fight.

That decided, he makes a show of spitting in Anders' face.

"I won't tell you anything." He seethes. "You'll get nothing on Clarke from me."

Anders sighs. "Very well. As I expected. Peters – begin. Report back when you have anything of use."

With that, Anders leaves, and Bellamy hears a new voice.

"Bellamy. I want you to show me Clarke, in your mind's eye."

He refuses. Of course he does – token show of resistance.

"Bellamy. You must focus on your memories of Clarke. We need this information, and I don't want to have to take it by force."

He keeps his silence, and pictures very carefully the sky above Earth. He picks out fluffy white clouds in his mind's eye, spends several seconds colouring his mental image the perfect shade of blue.

Peters steps closer. "Now then, Bellamy. You're in an endless desert with a vast purple sky. A hand reaches out for your own. Whose is it?"

He breaks then. He figures it's safe – he's resisted enough to look unwilling. All at once, he allows his mind to flood with memories of Clarke. But even here, he's keeping up the deception. He makes a great show of providing lots and lots of memories, but this Peters does not know that Bellamy is choosing his material carefully. He selects only memories he thinks can have no relevance to the idea of Clarke as _the key to everything_. For example, he shows Peters the expression on Clarke's face that time she ordered him to take a nap in her office at the end of a long day, and plays an endless loop of the sound of her laugh. He avoids, very carefully, memories of any political importance, such as Mount Weather or the rise of ALIE. And it's not too difficult to do so, either, because these memories he chooses may be completely irrelevant to Clarke's power, status or abilities, but they are the memories that are most important to him, and to the story of their relationship.

Little moments like this are honestly the first memories that come to mind, when Peters asks him to think of Clarke.

…...

Bellamy sustains the torrent of trivial anecdotes about Clarke for quite some time. It might be hours, or it might be days – it's difficult to tell, strapped to a chair in a room of intimidatingly spotless white.

Either way, by the time Peters announces himself satisfied and the machine is switched off, Bellamy is happy with a job well done. He's provided more than enough information to appear to have co-operated, and yet the only thing of importance these people have learnt from him is that Clarke is his weakness, and he is hers. He's pretty sure they already got that much from his sister, so no harm done.

Peters approaches the side of Bellamy's chair and speaks.

"You've done well, Bellamy. Thank you. This is a lot of information." Yes. A lot of utterly useless information, Bellamy thinks, but obviously he mustn't say that out loud.

"I was happy to co-operate." He offers, tone neutral.

"Yes, yes. Very helpful. Anders will want to see you now."

Good. That's exactly what he was hoping for.

…...

Bellamy is feeling the tension, as he waits for Anders to come to speak to him. He needs to convince the leader of these people that he could be useful to them, that he is worth taking under their wing and welcoming onto the inside of the organisation. But he needs to do that without looking too keen or arousing suspicion. It's a lot of pressure, but Bellamy knows he is up to the task. He has done similar things before, and he's feeling inspired by Clarke's example, playing Josephine well enough too fool Sanctum just a few short days ago.

"Mr Blake." Anders greets him, entering the room.

"Bellamy is fine." He offers. That seems like a simple start to getting things onto a more ostensibly friendly footing.

Anders gives him a considering sort of look. "Very well. Bellamy. It's good to see you have settled in. I trust Peters made you very welcome?"

Welcome. Huh. Seems an odd way to phrase it – last thing Bellamy checked, he was mostly strapped to a chair.

"Very welcome." He lies through his teeth, because he's playing a bigger game, here.

"Good, good. He tells me your were most helpful, that you've given us a lot of data on Clarke."

He simply nods, because he figures there is no good way of answering that without rousing suspicion one way or the other.

"Tell me, Bellamy. Would you like to learn more about what we do here?"

Aha. This is his chance. "I guess." He agrees, nonchalant. He cannot afford to look too enthusiastic just yet.

Anders nods. "Good. We're soldiers here, Bellamy. We're preparing to fight a great war – the last war that mankind will ever wage." Bellamy manages not to snort at that, but it's a struggle. In his experience, people suggesting that they are fighting the final war are always wrong. Wars don't bring peace, as far as he has learnt – they just bring more wars.

But this is something he can work with, so he tries for a nostalgic smile. "I was training to be a soldier, once." He tells Anders. "I was a cadet on the Ark as a young man."

"Yes. Your sister showed us that. And did you like being a cadet?"

He hated it, for the most part. He hated the fact that he had not chosen that path – rather it had been chosen for him by circumstances, and by the need to protect his sister.

But it seems that's just another thing he'll have to lie about, here.

"I loved it." He says, with all the conviction he can muster. "I was a guard on Earth as well. I love being part of something bigger than just myself, and fighting for something I really believe in."

Anders nods again, evidently most pleased with that answer. "Very good, Bellamy. Let me show you around Bardo. Let's see what you make of our cause."

…...

He learns a lot about Bardo, in the hours that follow.

He learns that they are maniacs, pure and simple. That they are single-minded in their devotion to their training and to their cause – even though they do not really know what their cause _is_ , because they have no idea who the final war will actually be against. It's absolute madness, but he doesn't mention that, of course. His personal cause depends on his discretion.

He learns that they walk around holding their hands in the air saying "For all mankind." He doesn't get that at all, really. It's such a strange corruption of everything he has ever stood for alongside Clarke. They have fought for their people, and then for the whole human race. But they have done it out of love and warmth and a sense of what is right, not the strange detached yet impassioned loyalty that these people have.

Clarke would hate it. That much he is certain of.

Anders leads his tour and frequently invites him to ask questions. Bellamy keeps his questions to a minimum, not wanting to sound like someone who can think for himself. His conversion will be easier to sell if they think he is just Clarke's obedient lieutenant. Instead of questions, therefore, he tries to stick to observations and in particular to compliments.

"They seem very devoted, your people." He observes neutrally, trying not to betray with his voice just how creepy and weird he is finding their behaviour. It's worse than the attitude the residents of Sanctum had to the Primes, he reckons, and that's saying something.

"Yes. We pride ourselves on being zealous in our devotion to the Shepherd." Anders says, as if that's just normal. As if it's _obvious_.

Zealous. Huh. Bellamy is familiar with the concept of zeal – he did read a lot as a kid, after all. But it dawns on him that he has never truly understood it until this moment. By the definition they use on Bardo, it seems that _zeal_ is delusional unthinking obedience, packaged as a positive trait. It disgusts him, honestly, how proud these people are of wasting all their love on _the cause_ rather than on other actual human beings.

But that's just another thing he needs to conceal.

…...

Bellamy has been a guest of Bardo for a couple of weeks, now, and he figures it's time to get things moving. He knows about the time dilation between here and Sanctum, but all the same, he surely doesn't have forever until these people manage to capture Clarke and he has to be ready to act.

"I'm very impressed with everything I've seen." He tells Anders. It's a lie – of course it's a lie – but it serves the greater good, he tells himself.

"I'm glad to hear it. And – what do you think your friend Clarke will make of it?"

"I think she'll be impressed too. I think she'll want to help you win your war, when she realises I'm with you. She's always had a lot of respect for my opinions." That's true, in many ways, but he thinks he might be overselling his influence on her all the same.

"About that – I've been meaning to ask you. You're with us? You would like to train with us and join our cause?"

He nods, tries to look eager and devoted and _zealous_. "For all mankind." He offers, hands in the air.

Anders looks delighted, of course. Bellamy manages not to laugh. He wonders what Clarke would make of all this – she always was more into all _human_ kind, he's pretty sure.

That doesn't matter. What matters is that Anders is pleased, and his training will start tomorrow. What matters is that these fools are still swallowing his well-intentioned lies.

He wonders if the lying is a problem. He supposes it doesn't much make any difference if he's damning his soul, or some such thing. He's already going to hell as it is – has been ever since the day he trashed that radio and caused the culling. He supposes that maybe he has a pretty twisted attitude to the truth. He didn't exactly grow up in a household where his mother made him promise not to lie. On the contrary, she told him to lie as often as necessary to protect his sister.

And he's been lying by omission about his feelings for Clarke for quite literally centuries, now.

Maybe that's just who he is. After making a career out of being the inside man, maybe it's only natural that he has become a so fluent at concealing the truth.

…...

He's in his old apartment on the Ark. He doesn't know how he got here, and he doesn't know where his mother is.

All he knows is that Octavia is bundled up in his arms, barely a couple of months old, crying softly as he tries to shush her and hopes that the neighbours cannot hear.

Then the doors is flung open, and Anders marches in, a troop of armed disciples at his back.

"We will take her. She is ours now." Anders says.

"No! No, she's my sister!" Bellamy cries. "My responsibility." He adds, more quietly.

"We are all brothers and sisters in faith. One family, united by the Shepherd." Anders corrects him firmly.

Bellamy nods. He knows he's supposed to, whether he actually agrees or not. "For all mankind." He adds for good measure, handing over his sister.

He doesn't mind handing her over at all, now he's worked out what's going on. If Anders has showed up on the Ark, that must mean this is one of those simulations they warned him about. He's more than ready to give up his sister in a simulation – that's all part of his grand deception, after all.

He wakes up, jerks out of the simulation abruptly. Anders is standing over him, looking proud. It's a facial expression that doesn't suit him, Bellamy decides, and that makes him appear somehow wolfish and threatening.

"Well done, Bellamy. That was the first test. You passed with flying colours – good going, for an outsider."

Bellamy tries to focus on the positives. He has passed the first test, and is welcome to continue with his training.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that Anders still sees him as an outsider, when the success of his plans depends upon him being the perfect inside man.

…...

The physical training sessions are relatively easy. He knows how to fight, and there are few mind games here. There is just Anders, supervising every aspect of his training in minute detail. Surely he does not do this for all new recruits?

He shakes that thought off, refocuses on shooting a ray gun with appropriate levels of eager devotion. That's the one thing he can't quite get the hang of about Bardo – fixing that stupid zealous expression on his face all the damn time. He doesn't know how the rest of them manage it.

After the shooting, there is wrestling. He has a new partner today. In fact, he seems to have a new partner every day. He wonders if there's something going on there. Is Anders deliberately dividing his time between different training partners so that he cannot get to know them, and they cannot get to know him? It's what he would do, in Anders' position.

Wrestling is one of his better skills, and it reminds him of easier times when he had actual friends around, rather than being all alone in enemy territory. It reminds him of Echo, and he decides that she'd probably quite enjoy this particular aspect of the military training on Bardo.

It's the first time he's really thought about her since he ended up here, and he should probably feel more guilty about that. He should probably feel more of pretty much any emotion at all regarding that, now he comes to think about it.

…...

"Do you still think of Clarke sometimes?"

Anders asks him the question as they walk down the hallway between training sessions. He is deliberately casual about the whole thing, but Bellamy knows that this is a test every bit as much as the simulation with his baby sister was a test.

"Not really." He says. It's a lie, but he forces himself to sound nonchalant as he gets the words out. "Only in as much as she's an asset to the cause, I guess."

"That's good, Bellamy. You'll need to keep working on that. I think you could be very useful in ensuring her co-operation when she arrives."

"Certainly, sir. Anything for the cause." He nods firmly. "For all mankind." He adds, with spirit, wondering if that is overkill or only what Anders is expecting.

It's what he was expecting. They are so accustomed to maniacal devotion, round here, that it doesn't seem to occur to anyone for so much as a second that Bellamy might be acting.

…...

Clarke walks into his room at night.

He's initially confused, because Clarke isn't on Bardo, last thing he checked. Also because it's been a good few decades since they were on quite such casual terms as to walk into one another's rooms at night. He's got a girlfriend, these days, after all.

That ought to tip him off that something is amiss, but lovestruck idiot that he is, he just tells her it's good to see her.

She doesn't reciprocate, starts talking instead about some plan to torch the oxygen farm. And then she's marching down the hallway, brandishing a flamethrower, heading straight for the trees that keep Bardo breathing.

This really isn't like Clarke. Sure, she's occasionally been known to wipe out an entire society to save her people, but all of this anger and marching doesn't feel quite right.

He follows her, though, trotting uselessly in her wake and protesting ineffectually. He reminds her about _doing better_ , about the grief and guilt they both felt for Mount Weather, about the fact that he's here to support her but he doesn't much like the idea of suffocating a bunker full of people.

She ignores him, which is odd. Even when they have disagreed, in the past, they have at least talked about it.

But then his time is out and they're in the oxygen farm, and she's brandishing the flamethrower, on the point of igniting the nearest tree. There's a knife in his boot, but he can't throw it. She's acting so strange, not at all like herself. Surely she doesn't mean this? Surely -

He wakes up, abruptly, staring into Anders' disappointed eyes.

"That was the final test." Bellamy surmises, frustrated with himself. No wonder Clarke's behaviour wasn't quite right – they must not have captured her yet. They're trying to build the simulation of her from Octavia's biased memories and his trivial anecdotes about the way she jokes over the dinner table. They don't have any accurate data about how she acts in life-or-death situations.

"That was the final test." Anders agrees. "I regret to inform you that you have failed."

Bellamy feels his heart sink. He cannot protect Octavia or Clarke if he is not in the inner circle, here.

"I'll take it again. Let me take it again." He begs. "You know I can do better than this. I have perfect scores so far until today. I just – she took me by surprise. It's been a long time since I've seen her." He swallows deeply, not sure whether that was a helpful addition to his argument. "I just need to work more on distancing myself from her. And then I'll be ready to take it all over again."

"There are no second chances for the final test." Anders says, monotone. "You pass, or you are sent to Penance to die."

Bellamy pulls out his trump card. "You need me. You know I can ensure Clarke's co-operation better than anyone else. We can help each other out, just as soon as – as I've broken my bond with Clarke."

Anders blinks slowly. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"Slow, monotonous work. Give me time to think about what I've done. Tell me – do you need another janitor?"

Anders nods. "You will work as a janitor. Next month you will retake the test. There will be no third chances."

Bellamy nods, eager. _Zealous_ , even – that's what they want from him, right?

"I won't let you down again. I'll be ready." He swallows back the lump forming in his throat, an odd mixture of self-loathing and relief. "For all mankind."

"For all mankind."

…...

There's a reason he asked to be a janitor. It's a grim job in many ways – he hated it when he was forced into it as a young man – but it was a tactical choice, too. Janitors see things and hear things, are treated as part of the furniture, almost as if they blend into the walls.

He has bought himself a little time to rest, and watch, and plan.

…...

He knows what's going on right away, when he finds himself in the midst of his second final test. The parallels with that hideous day in Polis, when Clarke broke the rules of the conclave and locked Octavia outside, are all too plain.

This time, though, she is the one on the ladder, and he is standing some metres away, a pistol clasped in his hand.

"I have to open the door." She's saying. "The outside air will kill them all."

"I can't let you do that, Clarke."

"Please, Bellamy. I have to get this door open."

"And what then?"

"Then we run." She says, as if that's any kind of plan.

He takes a moment to look her right in the eyes and check this really is a simulation. Yes, he's certain of it – the Disciples have not done a great job of it, if he's being honest. Once again, it is evident that they do not know Clarke Griffin anywhere near as well as they think they do. Sure, she once let irradiated air into a mountain. But in this simulation, the Disciples really have got his and Clarke's roles all wrong. She is not the one who is supposed to rush up a ladder, pleading for permission to do something well-intentioned but somewhat misguided. There's no way she would think that _running_ was a viable plan. And he is certainly not the one who is supposed to keep her centred – that's what she does for him, every damn time.

All the same, he makes one last check.

"How many barrels of hydrazine did we take to the island?" He asks her. It's the only question he can think of that Octavia could not have given them the answer to, and he knows he has not, and that he thinks will sound more or less innocent to Anders as he observes.

"What?"

"How many barrels?" He repeats, earnest.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He shoots her in the head, right between the eyes.

…...

His graduation as a level twelve is a strange day. It's almost a parody of the graduation ceremony they would have on the Ark when a kid finished school, because of course there are no loved ones at a Bardo graduation – no one here has loved ones.

They have only fanatical devotion to the cause.

He's surprised to be a level twelve, after he had to take the final test twice. But apart from that he's aced his training, and more importantly the Disciples know that he's Clarke's weakness. So it is that he tries to look proud rather than shocked, as he accepts his white robes and Anders puts a ring on his finger.

"We welcome Bellamy Blake, the most zealous of our new recruits." He says, as he binds him with the band of silver.

They're not quite the circumstances Bellamy expected, for acquiring what looks like a wedding ring. He sort of thought there would be more _Clarke_ involved, and fewer lies, and more joy.

…...

The real final test follows a couple of days later. Faking his death to break his sister's spirit is surely more horrifying than shooting what he knew was only a vision of Clarke.

He has to do it, though. He has to do it, because he's playing the long game, and so going along with Anders' carefully choreographed charade is the only way of protecting both Octavia and Clarke, when all's said and done.

"I'd be honoured, sir." Bellamy says, when asked. "For all mankind."

"For all mankind." Anders echoes, because that's how this works.

He's getting sick of those words. They taste bitter on his tongue, and somehow more slimy than the algae he survived on for years. But he forces a keen smile onto his face, maintains the requisite expression of devoted enthusiasm.

Pretending to die before his sister's very eyes has to be one of the hardest things he will ever be asked to do. Deceiving her on such a monumental scale is painful, and he doesn't like it. He doesn't like adding another lie to his ever-growing list, and one that will hurt someone he loves, too.

But it's hardly the most dishonest thing he's done this month.

…...

Etherea is nice at this time of year. A little on the hot side, but it's good at least to be outside and taste fresh air. He sits there for ten minutes, thinking about what he's just done, remembering the look of horror on his sister's face before that grenade went up and he threw himself into the Bridge.

Then the air glows green, and he knows he is being summoned back to Bardo.

"That was perfect, Bellamy. Good work. You have done well."

"All for the cause, sir."

"Very good. Very good."

He wonders whether anyone would notice if he ran away back to Etherea, and just kept running.

…...

It was a painfully high price to pay, but it seems that fake death scene has finally bought the trust of Anders and indeed of the rest of the inner circle of Bardo. All of a sudden, on his return, Bellamy finds that he is very much someone who matters here. He is trusted, with little snippets of information such as the fact that Gabriel is here and has joined the cipher team – he rather wonders if that means Echo is around here somewhere, too, but if she is no one tells him that. He learns more about this last war, and about what they want with Clarke – it seems that the Shepherd wants to know more about a memory in the flame, of a bright white light. His opinion is solicited, on matters of tactics, and questions of how best to train the younger recruits.

Finally, he has made it. He is truly on the inside.

"We should discuss what our strategy will be for handling Clarke when she arrives." Anders suggests, one morning.

"Yes. She's likely to fight. She's spirited." Bellamy offers, as if commenting about livestock rather than the love of his life.

"That's where you come in. I think you should be the one to welcome her, Bellamy. Perhaps you can act a little – win her trust, talk her into telling us everything we need?" He tries not to laugh. He's been acting for weeks, but apparently that hasn't even occurred to Anders, surrounded by he is by all this sickening _zeal_.

"Certainly, sir. If I might suggest – do you think it would be a good idea for me to oversee her stay in MCAP? I think she could be a tough one to break. We might do better with me talking her into opening her mind to us."

"Good idea. Certainly. I'll ask Levitt and Peters to teach you how it works. We'd better get on with that – don't want you making any mistakes and wiping her mind, do we?"

"I don't make mistakes."

That's the truth, as it happens. That's the truth for the first and quite possibly the last time since he arrived on this damn planet. He doesn't make mistakes when Clarke Griffin's life is on the line – it's as simple as that.

…...

Clarke shows up, and Bardo falls apart. It's utter chaos, people running every which way, their carefully curated zeal giving way to sheer excitement. Anders wakes up the Shepherd, and Bellamy is unsurprised to learn that the Shepherd has been Bill Cadogan all along. He knew there was something weird about that cult from the moment Jaha first showed them that video.

Bellamy tries to look frantic with excitement about the coming war, because that seems to be the thing to do if he is to blend in. He can kind of understand the reaction, he supposes. These people have been training for their war for generations, and now their purpose in life is about to be fulfilled.

But they still have no idea what the last war even is, and that strikes him as rather ridiculous.

He brushes that thought aside and heads to MCAP with an expression of utter joy pasted to his face. Clarke is already there, strapped into the chair, and he sighs with relief. All he needs to do is get her alone and they can come up with a plan.

But then it becomes clear that Anders and Cadogan have no intention of leaving him to it.

"We will watch, Bellamy." Anders explains.

"I want to see every last detail." Cadogan adds.

Well, then. He's going to have to remember how to communicate with Clarke under pressure. He approaches her, ostensibly to check that the equipment is ready to start reading her memories. He hovers over her, where she can see him, and her eyes go wide as she registers that it really is him.

"Trust me." He mouths silently, his back turned to Anders and Cadogan.

She narrows her eyes a little, and he takes that as agreement, tinged with a small dose of scepticism. That's about the reaction he would expect from Clarke, under the circumstances.

And then he sets about scrambling for a plan. He thinks about what it is these people want to see – a burst of white light, a memory in the flame – and an idea begins to come together.

"I hope you'll co-operate, Clarke. These people have been very good to me and I know they'll take care of you too. The chocolate cake is particularly good, and I know how you feel about chocolate cake." He says, with careful emphasis. It's the only way he can think of conveying that this is Mount Weather, take two.

"I do have strong opinions about chocolate cake." She agrees, and Cadogan laughs lightly from behind them. So far, so good.

"Then we'll all get on just fine." Bellamy continues smoothly. "The Shepherd is really interested in a memory from the flame about light, Clarke. Can you show us what you saw, that day you took the flame and then went into the _light_?"

Again, she takes his meaning. She doesn't show them what they really want to know – instead she floods the neural link with image after image of the City of Light, shining buildings, spotless concrete, crowds of happy people living picture-perfect lives and eating ice cream in the streets.

Anders and Cadogan stand shocked, rooted to the spot. Good – that's what he was aiming for.

"This is what she saw?" Cadogan asks, stunned. "It – it looks -"

"Perfect?" Bellamy supplies with enthusiasm. _Too good to be true_ , is what he's thinking, but he doesn't say that, of course.

"Yes. Show us more." Cadogan begs.

Clarke gladly obliges with a steady stream of memories. Bellamy, meanwhile, gets to work. He slips a scalpel into her hand while the two men are distracted by the unexpected images, then loosens her restraints under the guise of checking they are secure.

And then he prompts her again, voice calm. "Just show us a little more about the people, Clarke. I thought I saw Becca Franco there for a moment."

That was the right thing to say. Anders and Cadogan are now utterly engrossed in the images, desperately searching for any sign of Becca Franco – or rather, of ALIE, but they don't need to know that.

As one, Bellamy and Clarke step forward while the two men are distracted. With perfect timing, they subdue them – Bellamy knocks Anders out with a blow to the back of the head, while Clarke holds her scalpel blade against Cadogan's throat.

He likes to think that he and Clarke have always been fairly good at solving problems together, but this is one of their finer moments, he decides.

"What now?" Clarke asks him, still holding that blade in place.

"Now we have hostages. We negotiate from a position of strength." That's her area of expertise – he hasn't really planned much beyond this moment.

She nods. "Sounds like a plan. Let's get these two tied up before we do anything else."

That's something he can do. It's not long before the two hostages are bound and gagged, and he and Clarke are standing over them deciding what to do next. They opt to have Bellamy call for Gabriel over the intercom, in the end. They know he is a friendly face within these walls, and can act as a kind of go-between for them. It all seems like it is going to go quite smoothly – Cadogan has not resisted, since he realised that he has lost the upper hand, and he's sitting meekly in the corner, following their movements with his eyes.

Bellamy is trying to compile a mental list of demands. To get their people back and live in peace, obviously. But perhaps also mutual support if ever this last war does come to anything – he's becoming fairly convinced it's all a colossal fiction, but if it does truly exist, he wouldn't want the people of Sanctum to face the threat alone.

Clarke interrupts his thoughts with a most unexpected question.

"You – erm – are you wearing a wedding ring? Did you and Echo...?" She sounds flustered, he thinks, and it's not a sound he's familiar with. For an horrific moment he wonders if this is a simulator test, too. But no, he's sure it isn't – apart from that nervous question, she's acting very much like Clarke.

Amidst that frantic moment, he ends up answering her question without thinking. "Please, Clarke. Like I'd ever marry anyone who's not you."

There's a beat of silence, and then he realises what he's said.

"I mean – it's to symbolise that I'm on the inside, or whatever. Level twelves wear a ring. I've been playing along so I could protect you and O." He says quickly.

She isn't interested in that. "Let's go back to what you said before." She says, grinning. "We always did have terrible timing, but I think that was a new low."

He laughs, nervous. Bill Cadogan is watching this entire conversation, evidently listening closely, and it only adds to how deeply uncomfortable Bellamy feels in this moment.

Clarke continues. "You know, I don't plan on marrying anyone who isn't you either."

She's standing over Anders' unconscious body, checking the restraints around his wrists are tight enough. Of course she is – they're finally acknowledging the fact their lives revolve around each other while they're in the middle of a high-stakes hostage situation.

That's just their luck, isn't it?

"Shall we maybe come back to this conversation later?" He asks, trying not to become overexcited and failing miserably. "I want to do it properly, you know? Romantic moment? Down on one knee? Break up with Echo first?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's get us a peace treaty and then come back to planning our wedding." She's smiling at him brighter than the sun, and it's a good look, he decides.

Happiness looks good on her. He's said it before, and he likes to think he might have opportunities to say it again, in the future.

Gabriel enters the room, then, asking what the hell is going on. Bellamy goes back to planning his mental list of demands, and figures they probably need to remove the gag from Cadogan's mouth if he's actually going to be able to agree to anything.

He's just heading over there to do that when Clarke brushes past him, pauses a second by his side and reaches up to whisper in his ear.

"Just so we're clear, the engagement starts now."

He gives a warm laugh, squeezes her hand briefly as he passes. Of course his engagement with Clarke would spring from a moment like this – flying by the seat of their pants while they try to save humanity. Maybe he'd have liked a little leisure time for enthusiastic kissing, or a nice soft moment with him kneeling at her feet. But on reflection, he thinks, this is more truly _them_. It's a perfect reflection of their relationship, and all the things that brought them together in the first place.

He wouldn't have it any other way, and that's the honest truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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